


Friendly Afternoon Spar

by Victopteryx



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blood and Violence, Drabble, Konohagakure | Hidden Leaf Village, M/M, Sexual Content, Sparring, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24818989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victopteryx/pseuds/Victopteryx
Summary: Hashirama invites Madara to spar.Things get a little out of hand.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 26
Kudos: 102





	Friendly Afternoon Spar

It started innocently enough. One sunny afternoon, after the building and infrastructure work had been completed for the day, Hashirama asked Madara if he wanted to spar. Madara, of course, said yes. 

Things started to go downhill from there. 

They began with swords, and a promise not to use ninjutsu - simple, easy. Safe. But even with something as simple and safe as swords, Madara’s strikes were punishing. He lashed out like a snake, his blade clashing with Hashirama’s, every hit sending shivers up his arm. 

Hashirama couldn’t remember whose sword had been discarded first - had he disarmed Madara? Had Madara cast aside his own sword? Did Madara’s numbing strikes make him lose his grip? It didn’t really matter. In the end, both of them had drawn out kunai from their hidden pouches, and began to circle each other, eyes locked across the distance between them. Madara’s face was flushed, and Hashirama’s hair clung to the back of his neck. 

Hashirama did remember that he was the one to attack first, lunging forward and swinging his kunai towards Madara’s abdomen. Madara dodged it, of course, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid the tip snagging in his black shirt, tearing a wide hole in the cloth. 

Madara spun around, using his momentum to throw himself back towards Hashirama. His eyes gleamed red. Hashirama, spurred by some unknowable force, seized Madara’s empty hand and swung him closer. His eyes met Madara’s for the briefest of seconds, and as he felt the genjutsu fall over him – immediately broken with a surge of chakra – Hashirama used the leverage of his position to _snap_ Madara’s arm backwards at the elbow. He could feel the bone splinter under his hands, but Madara barely even reacted as his hand flew towards Hashirama’s throat, kunai gleaming in the sunlight. Hashirama’s own kunai flew up to block it, but Madara was too close and he misjudged the distance – the blade cut through the back of his hand with a spray of blood.

Hashirama snarled wordlessly and dropped his knife, twisting to seize Madara’s wrist, and slammed their heads together. Madara’s leg swept under his as he fell, and Hashirama went down with him in a tangle of limbs. He landed on top of Madara, used one hand to pin down Madara’s good arm, and wrapped the other around Madara’s throat and began to squeeze. Madara thrashed uselessly under him – Hashirama’s legs curled under his and locked him in place as he leaned his full weight on the spot under Madara’s chin. Madara tensed and writhed, and somehow managed to wrap his teeth around part of Hashirama’s hand. He bit down, _hard,_ and Hashirama let out a bark of pain and surprise as he felt Madara _bite off part of his hand_.

Hashirama, acting purely on instinct, backhanded him with a bloody fist.

He didn’t expect Madara’s hips to _buck_ like that in response. He certainly didn’t expect Madara to _moan_ like that, either.

Hashirama realized he was straddling Madara, whose chest was heaving with each ragged breath. His hair was wild, and his cheeks were flushed dark red. Blood was smeared across his face from the bite and the subsequent backhand. He stared up at Hashirama with dark black eyes.

“I think I broke your arm,” Hashirama said, eyes not leaving his face.

Madara didn’t look away, either. “You did.”

Hashirama leaned down and picked up the limb by the wrist. Madara shuddered with pain, jaw tightening. Hashirama could feel every vibration in his body.

Wordlessly, without asking, Hashirama snapped the bone back into place. This forced a ragged cry out of Madara, his hips bucking again under Hashirama’s weight. Hashirama realized he was still pinning the hand that held the kunai – he released it and slide his free hand down Madara’s broken arm, chakra pooling along its paths, restringing snapped tendons and ligaments.

Madara’s breathing had begun to return to normal and he was again looking up at Hashirama with tar black eyes. He licked a streak of blood off his parted lips, leaving them wet and glistening.

“I think… I hear Mito calling,” Hashirama managed to choke out. His voice was hoarse.

“Yeah,” Madara said.

“Sorry for breaking your arm,” Hashirama said.

“Sorry for your hand.”

Hashirama looked down. Madara had bitten down hard enough to expose bone at the base of his thumb. “Oh, wow,” Hashirama said blandly. “I should probably go clean this.”

“Probably,” Madara agreed.

Hashirama unsteadily got to his feet. He looked down at Madara, still laying face-up in the dirt, showing absolutely no sign of moving. Then he turned and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> oops my bad didnt mean to moan like that


End file.
